All in a Day's Work
by Avaril
Summary: Characters: Thranduil starring as the mighty King of Greenwood, OFC Lailaith co-starring as the Governess, Legolas and OFC Sariah making an appearance as the errant elflings that cause all the trouble and are still spoilt rotten...


-1**All in a day's work**

**by Bird**

**Characters: Thranduil starring as the mighty King of Greenwood, OFC Lailaith co-starring as the Governess, Legolas and OFC Sariah making an appearance as the errant elflings that cause all the trouble and are still spoilt rotten...**

**Rating: G**

**Disclaimer: No elflings were harmed, disciplined or scolded in the making of this story. A king is amused, and a governess does consider harsher actions but manages to remain sane.**

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If there was any one particular word to describe the mood for that one particular moment, murderous would have been it. But only if elflings were prone to murder. And, thankfully, the elleth thought to herself, they weren't, though with these two specific elflings, she might not have been surprised if they were.

They certainly did murder to her tenuous patience. But then, Lailaith thought, they weren't the ones who were going to do the physical murdering at this particular moment.

Thus far both of her charges failed miserably at their lessons in social graces, and she fretted for her own sake that their behaviors did not reflect on her abilities. And further more, she worried as she had yet to find either one, and it was already late evening and dusk was upon the forest.

The forest was in full bloom, and the flower petals had begun to close for their night's rest as the sun set. Spring rains had soaked the ground, making different spots into squelchy pits of mud and others only slightly less than muddy. Behind her was the palace appearing so calm and orderly compared to her frame of mind, though only moments before she'd been tearing through it in a dead panic.

She'd not made it far from the gates of the caverns, the famous gates of King Thranduil, Elven King of Greenwood, the father of the very elfling that had her charging about with her skirt tied up between her legs as she waded through mud, when she found herself in the presence of that particular king. All seven and a half feet of him loomed startled her when she turned around to call out to the elflings, and she swallowed her words. He'd been gone all of the day working with the ellyn of his guard at the training grounds, and must have just returned from his state of dress. He still wore the brown sleeveless tunic and loose black breeches they wore during practice, and his golden hair in a tight braid tucked down the back to keep it out of reach.

Whatever amusement he might have found in the situation or the appearance of his son's governess, King Thranduil hid it well behind one finely arched eyebrow and crossed arms.

"Lailaith, I will ask for one explanation, and this time, do not start it off with 'Your son…,'" Thranduil pressed his lips together in a thin a line, mostly to keep his smile from ruining his stern façade.

Lailaith, however, knew that father like son, and challenged the king with her own well-practiced scolding expression. Ankle deep in the spring mud, her originally tight braid falling loose, most of it escaping the band tied about the end, she crossed her arms and raised her chin slightly. A little ways to the left, she heard the conspiratorial giggles of two little elflings unable to contain themselves. Their cover blown, she continued in a more ambivalent tone.

"If you stand there, my liege, and detain me from my duties, the children and I will never finish our game of Hide and Seek before bedtime, and, as you can clearly see, I am 'it'." Lailaith pretended she'd not heard the giggles and called out as she raised her hand and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Now, where on earth could Legolas and Sariah be hiding…" Squelching through the mud, Lailaith turned away from the bemused king and toward the bushes where the giggles were getting just a tad bit louder.

"Oh, my goodness!" Lailaith exclaimed with mock surprise. "And you two were there all this time!" Though what she really wanted to do was scold and scowl at the children, she refrained despite the fact that they had been missing for nearly an hour and a half. When exactly they had left the caverns, she couldn't be sure, but she'd gotten wind of their presence in the kitchens just an hour earlier. In the morning, they would definitely receive some sort of disciplinary action, and Lailaith already had an idea forming in her head that involved sitting quietly for a long period of time and the removable of several choice toys.

Legolas, the little ten year old golden-haired prince, and his cohort Sariah, a tiny elleth of a year younger with raven hair, popped out of the bushes, red-faced from their laughter. Both had a head full of dirt, sticks, and leaves, and their faces smeared with mud, resembling yrch more than elflings. Lailaith already dreaded the task that bath time would prove to be, Legolas protesting the warm water and soap, and herself becoming more wet than he. Luckily, she thought to herself, at least Sariah's naneth had that task for herself, and Lailaith only had to worry about one elfling at bath time.

Thranduil shook slightly with his mirth, fully aware of Lailaith's falsehood, and watched her as she waded toward the children.

If Thranduil had assessed the situation correctly, which he suspected he did according to what the cook and his assistants all said, the two children had been running wild all through the caverns while he had been away at the training grounds. Especially from what he'd seen of the nursery when he'd gone looking for Lailaith and the two. String had been tied from every table and chair leg, from wall to wall. Since both children were involved, he really couldn't tell which one had stacked the boxes on the bench-toy chest and tied string to the top of the shelf. Balls and marbles had been scattered across the entire floor, along with many other dangerous obstacles.

Overall, Ungoliant's lair probably had nothing on these two.

However, Legolas' handwriting was quite obvious on the drawing of Lailaith, her mean eye-brows of doom, sharp teeth and all else that had inspired him. On the back of the paper, he'd drawn a little chair, table, and an elf with a scribbled mop of yellow hair, holding a quill, a large red X over the whole picture. Below it, the spelling horribly butchered though quite clear in meaning, he'd written "No more lessons for Legolas and Sariah!" He'd underlined it three times for emphasis.

Yet, here Lailaith stood, nearly as dirty as the children, and still able to think clearly. Thranduil made a mental note to make sure she received something extra to her current compensation, and along the lines of several days off in a row. She only had roughly another 50 to 90 years left in her service, if she didn't go mad before then.


End file.
